


All Out of Candy

by Carnivorous_Comma



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carnivorous_Comma/pseuds/Carnivorous_Comma
Summary: The boys didn't return, leaving behind a mourning mother searching for some semblance of reason in it all. Maybe she can find them when all else fails.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of just a sample that the rest of the work is based on. The next chapter picks up from Halloween so you may want to just read that.

It had been three months since my children were swallowed by Halloween night. It seemed like a daze, a flurry of nightmares I would soon rise from. I had spoken to those kids and the officer on duty that day countless times, each session a dull repetition of useless information. They'd been playing in the graveyard.  Not what I expected of my son but I trusted him, believed that he would keep himself and his brother out of trouble. Maybe I put too much trust in him. Maybe if I had been more strict they would still...

The kids corroborate the same story, they were innocently hanging out in the cemetery as part of their Halloween adventures. They had invited my son but he had declined, it was for a short time that he arrived anyway his brother in tow. It was then that the officer playfully pursued them flashing lights at them in a poor joke but with the best intentions at heart. The teenagers scattered like they were truly being arrested and my boys went over the wall. It's such a tall wall. I've spent hours staring at it in awe that they could have found their way up it. I've tried to climb it to no avail, they must have been thoroughly motivated. They disappeared over it, some saw them others didn't but they were gone whether they fell or jumped unclear. The trail was left there. Train tracks and a reasonably deep river told a story of lost scent trails and small bodies thrashed against cold wet stone stolen away by the furtive current. They gave up after a few weeks, without a trail there was nothing left they could do but pray that someone somewhere sees something. It's become just another cautionary tale that appears briefly in the lives of those who didn't know them. Those kids at their schools who couldn't pick them out of a crowd, indifferent to the absence of an unnoticed individual. I don't know how to feel about them. I'm not sure how to feel about any of it. It feels sort of numb like this is still a long dream I'll eventually wake from. 

I imagine the day when I'll walk in the door and be met with singing, clarinet, or some creative cornet number. It could be any day when my home isn't a wall of silence and gray dread like that boundary that had stolen my children away. Any day when the panic and fear that keeps my blood rushing and my heart pounding in my bed finally wake me. Any day when I can look at my husband and see love instead of a hastily erased chalkboard trying to form a smile. Any day when I can feel my body instead of these numb things that have masqueraded as limbs. 

I've talked to someone. They say it takes time and work and acceptance and introspection. I want these things, to find a way to be happy. But these thoughts clutter and gather like dust on a shelf. Can I be happy? Where are these people that I had created, that I had been tasked with protecting. These weak innocent creatures that I'd allowed to wander into the maw of the beast. Lost, scared, dead, alive, injured, starving, wandering alone relying on their sharp wits to save them from the raw terror the world holds. I can't stand it. I've wandered in those woods for days, yelling until my throat was sore and yelling some more. Searching for so long that a party would go to find me. My husband holding me tight but still miles away looking at me through thick foggy glass. 

I want his comfort to comfort him, but I can't feel his touch when he's so far away. How can I hold any of my boys when they're so far away from me. I just need something, closure they've told me, a body so I can put them to rest. But if they're not dead where could they be. Snatched by some psychopath locked in a basement or living wild in some secluded cave with bats and raccoons. My heart breaks every moment of every day, it breaks for my precious boys who are likely never coming back. Those kids who stepped out into the unforgiving Unknown. 


	2. A Pumpkin Grin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet Halloween becomes something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the actual story, I was only going to do that flashfiction bit but now Iḿ writing more. So there. This sort of exists canonical separate of the prologue.

Sirens flashed soundlessly across the darkened curtains a swirling mix of anxious red and blue. I wasn't concerned, these lights strolled casually through the neighborhood like an innocent breeze on October 31st. Just a reminder to any deviants that despite the late night festivities that laws still existed and adolescent shenanigans were not to be tolerated. They clung to the creamy suede curtains like cobwebs. Those curtains that I'd been so enraptured with but grew to hate after the first time Greg figured out how to undo his Sippy cups. You could still see the Hawaiian Punch stain if you knew where to look. My thoughts floated to the boys, their costumes had been so wonderful this year. It never ceases to amaze me, their creativity was like a violent force of nature you never saw it coming and it knocked you off your feet. Honestly, an elephant. It doesn't sound that extraordinary but to use an upturned kettle as a trunk. I smiled to myself, a warm feeling sliding over me. And Wirt, taking his brother out with him. He was so responsible and thoughtful. I worried about him more than I worried about Greg. My son had encased himself in a shell away from other people. He wasn't antisocial really, he just kept people at arm's length. He was so smart and had this depth that sometimes gave me chills. But he never let anyone else see that, and how I wanted everyone else to see that. The warmth and love those boys could exude needed to be shared with the world. I looked forward to seeing.  


I wiped my misty eyes as a sharp knock broke through the late Halloween lull. Here I was getting all sentimental when there were six-year-olds waiting it tutus and capes to demand candy. I picked up the bright orange pumpkin bowl. It was almost empty the toothy black grin only obscured by the last traces of candy. I really need to learn to reign myself in, just a few always turned into too many and I hated to have to tell kids I was all out. The door opened a bright smile and jovial 'Happy Halloween' waiting on my lips. It was a police officer.  
My gaze scanned my yard first, ready to see gauzy wisps of TP wound through my trees or perhaps a little graffiti. I saw nothing and relaxed.  


"Happy Halloween Officer, care for some candy?"  


I extended the bowl, but he only shook his head. He seemed, rattled. My concern began to grow, motherly instinct crawling through my body.  


"What is it? What happened? Are they okay?"  


My thoughts raced hit by cars, mugged in an alley, beaten bruised broken images of my sons danced before my eyes like dreams. The bowl clattered against the cement step plastic ringing hollowly as the candy kept to freedom by the force.  


His sad eyes didn't respond immediately and my heart began to skip like a Double Dutch rope.  


"Frank!" I yelled the empty house around me suddenly cavernous and dark. I could hear the tremble in my voice even as I tried to contain it.  


"What is it honey?" The curious tone floated closer until a steady hand touched my shoulder.  


"Officer." His voice was stony while mine trembled like water.  


"There was a bit of a situation at the cemetery tonight. I'm afraid that your sons have gone missing."  


"W-what? But how could they- Did someone take them? Were they kidnapped? Oh my god. But. I just saw them, they left here only a few hours ago."  


"We can't confirm whether or not they've been taken. We don't know much right now."  


"Then what use are you?" I shrieked slamming the door in the man's face.  


"Honey." I ignored him.  


"The cemetery? He must mean Garden Cemetery. That's the one that's near the school."  


I grabbed my jacket checking the pockets for the keys before wandering into the kitchen.  


"Where are they? I had them only a moment ago."  


My fingers moved along the counter sparkling granite still graced with the nights drying dishes. Wirt had volunteered to do them. My hand is warm. I glance down detached from the sensation. It's a hand adorned with the twin of my wedding band. My husband.  


"Honey." His voice is stone cold, unfeeling, empty. How can he feel nothing.  


"Honey." His voice is shaking my eyes are up staring into his. They glimmer and shine with the beginnings of tears. He looks like he's trying to restrain them to keep himself together but he's failing.  


He holds up a key ring.  


"We can take mine."  


The warmth is crushed in my hand, an anchor to this twisted reality I found myself stumbling through. Hold onto him, make sure he can't be taken away, protect him. Protect him like I should have protected those children.  


We go back through the door almost knocking out the officer who had been knocking the entire time. I can't even look at him, he's useless, a waste of my time. If they had no leads I would look through the night myself. Look forever, no matter how long it took. I break my hold on my husband taking the keys from his grasp before he gently took them back. He was right of course, I couldn't drive like this. I couldn't drive while my mind was still reeling diving in and out of denial like some manic roller coaster. I slide in the passenger the scent of leather and pumpkin spice. Greg had gotten me that air freshener. Not for any reason, just because he remembered I liked the smell. Wirt had provided him the quarters to buy it, smiling sheepishly as Greg expounded wildly on their adventure through the candle store. Detailing how he would have been lost if Wirt hadn't slayed the Cinnamon Cherry Chardonnay monster with his coins of destiny. I smile then I remember. His hand is back in mine sweaty and warm and there. I try to steady my breathing but it continues in irregular gasps, I have to pull myself together. They need me, I can't fall apart now. I need to be strong, for them.  


Frank has the window rolled down shouting something at the officer who replies before scrambling back to his car, those lights a hypnotic cycle.  


"Just hold on boys, we're coming."  


A chill wind slipped through the cracked window, but my shivers came from somewhere else.


	3. Just Some Snaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at the scene only intensifies the situation.

More twirling strobes of light whisper across the ground around the cemetery, the silence more ominous than the shrieking bells could ever be. I slip out of the car my jacket slumping uselessly onto the seat. He's by my side so quickly I can only imagine that he sprinted around the vehicle, that hand in mine again. I breathe for a moment. I scan the crowd and catch sight of a group of costumed teenagers, they looked familiar like they went to school with my oldest. I move for them steadily Frank pulled along like a puppy. They're talking to officers, one of which looks up at me. His gaze falls but I hold on, I can't lose myself yet not while they're still out there.  


¨Officer.¨ I nodded at him. ¨What are we doing first?¨  


He seemed a bit shaken before nodding.  


¨Follow me Mrs. Palmer.¨  


¨Edwards.¨ My husband mumbled halfheartedly beside me.  


¨Yes, sorry.¨  


A hastily set up tent was brightly lit just outside the steel gates of the cemetery, shaking and snapping in the wind that whipped through the night. A small beacon in the dark.  


It was warmer inside, a tiny space heater glowed a dull red while hanging lamps cast light upon a pinned up map of the area. It was devoid of most markings beside a circle around the cemetery´s title. My body felt cold.  


¨We have just begun to question the children but we suspect that they are somewhere in the woods.¨  


¨W-woods? But they were in the cemetery.¨  


¨According to our witnesses, including Officer Pines and your son's school friends they climbed the wall that borders the creek.¨  


I almost felt like laughing, a deranged disbelieving laugh. My son, that thin stick of a boy scaling a wall? This must be a joke, those kids playing some sick Halloween prank.  


¨I want to speak to these children.¨  


¨Liz...¨  


¨Ma´am. I-¨  


Whatever words were coming next I ignored, I had to find out what had happened. I had to find my children. They were in the same place a few talking or consoling each other. I stomped across the stubbly grass mercilessly, determination filling my stride.  


¨You’re Wirt´s friends?¨  


They glanced up as I walked over something akin to fear in their eyes.  


¨Yes.¨ A girl dressed as a clown responded.  


¨I'm Sara, Mrs. Edwards.¨  


That name certainly rang a bell. I'd heard it whispered like some secret lullaby under my son's breath enough times. It was the girl that filled his poetry books.  


¨Tell me everything.¨  


She nodded solemnly, I liked her already. My son had good taste.  


She proceeded to recount everything.  


¨We were hanging out here. We weren't doing anything just sitting here and talking really. We´d invited Wirt but he´d said no.¨ She sounded a little disappointed, a good friend. ¨He showed up later with his brother, what was his name? Gary?¨  


¨Gregory.¨ The name just a whisper as his smiling face floated in my mind.  


¨Yeah, Greg. So they showed up but when they were about to come over a police car pulled up with flashing lights. The cop was talking over the loudspeaker thing, something like, ´private property´. We thought we were in trouble so we started to run. Jason and I hid behind that stone so I didn't see much but Wirt went that way.¨  


She pointed past me through the rows of long forgotten graves, to the endless slab of stone that bordered the place. It loomed like the gates to the underworld.  


¨I don't know what he did after that I was distracted.¨  


Her hand slipped over her pocket gripping a rectangular shape there. I didn't care, if she had no further information for me I would move on. I would investigate the scene myself if I had to.  


¨Hey, uh, Wirt´s mom?¨  


I turn back to see another boy dressed like a cowboy. I gaze questionly.  


¨Oh, uh, I saw Wirt go over the wall with his little brother. They climbed that tree or whatever and then just disappeared.¨  


I look into his eyes, ¨Thank you.¨  


¨I can corroborate that.¨ An officer makes his way over from a different interview he was giving.  


¨Officer Pines reports that your sons did, in fact, climb over the wall. He tried to call them back but they were already gone.¨  


I wasn't going to cry, my tears wouldn't do any good, I had a job to do.  


I turned away Frank thanking the officer behind my back. His hand was off and I was again floating. The steel gate looked ancient covered in water stains and gripped in tiny vines. Why were they here? It seemed completely out of character. It felt like a graveyard. A mysterious chill seemed to seemed to slide over my skin like some kind of rampant serpent crawling over my body. It smelled. A choking mix of decayed leaf litter and some other mustier smell that I couldn't hazard a guess to. It felt like the dead of winter the moment the gates were behind me, like this small fenced area was a separate dimension enclosed away from the rest of the world. I didn't want to be here.  


The wall rose like a mountain from mist infinite and intimidating. How had they scaled this terror like it was nothing. Had they been that scared of a police officer? Wirt maybe, but Greg wasn't capable of that. Had he blindly followed his brother over? Why? It still didn't make any sense, none of it made any sense. What had I done to deserve this?  


I grip the brick edges, the mortar chipped away to almost nothing in some spots. Is that where tiny cold fingers has gripped had one of Greg's feet found purchase in those narrow gaps. I glance at the tree that rose with the wall like some companion of fate. A tree. They had said something about this. More feasible to think they climbed this tree, yeah they'd said something like that. I pull myself up to the first branch underdeveloped biceps burning. It's a straight shot up, the branches arranged in a ladder like design as if meant to lure children to its cliff face. As I reached for another slim handhold my left foot was suddenly without support, my world began to spin and tumble with a harsh snap. The grass was hardly a cushion, shock shooting up my spine from my tailbone. It didn't hurt that much, surely nothing worse than what I'd already experienced. I got up.  


My limbs buzzed with the shock but I mounted the tree again. I could do this, just hold on tight and pull, keep going. They were just on the other side weren't they? Waiting to laugh at me for being such a worrywort. I could hear his voice saying it already while Wirt stammers apologies at me. Those silly kids, playing such a mean trick. Another snap. I hold myself to the tree like it's my lifeline bark biting into my face. Heh, it kind of hurt didn't it? I pull myself the next branch only a few inches away. It too snaps in my hand. I fall the few feet I gained, into someone's arms.  


¨What the hell do you think you're doing?!¨ His voice drifts across my stirring lids.  


¨Frank they're there. They're waiting for us just on the other side. SIlly boys.¨  


¨Elizabeth...¨ He sounds sad, why does he sound so sad. Why does he…  


My tears break like those stupid branches. I could drown in them, the warm salty ocean running across my face. The shaking won't stop my heart is quivering, it's not supposed to do that is it? No, none of this is supposed to happen. No, where are they? Where? Someone please tell me!  


¨Shh.¨ He´s holding me like a child. A flash of sensation on my head, trying to comfort me.  


¨It´s okay. Everything will be okay.¨ Lies, how can he know this? How can he be so calm.  


¨Please, let everything be okay.¨ His soul sounds broken, I return the embrace. He's falling apart slowly, too slowly for me to notice, too caught up in myself. We only have each other, I can't leave him stranded. Hold onto him tighter, breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really starting to like Frank, he's getting a little more characterization soon. There will be plot eventually. And more familiar faces.


	4. On a Stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting is true agony. The police are somewhat inept.

It took much insistence from Frank and the officers to convince me to follow them out of the graveyard. Ultimately they had no effect on my decision, it was the sight of the dogs that reassured me that everything was going to be fine. You couldn't hide from a dog, they would find them. They couldn't convince me to go home or even to the station to wait, they were on the other side of town, I wasn't going to be that far away when they found them. I wasn't going to be that far away from them ever again.  


We waited in their communications center, the little tent that we´d visited earlier. It was sparsely populated, primarily Officer Pines who had refused to go home and was now running the phone lines. He glanced up and turned red when we came in, he looked down. I wanted to punch him, to beat him until he bled. To make myself feel better, to see him suffer the way I was. Frank held my hand tight, his eyes screamed the same his jaw a mass of tight muscles. I kissed him lightly on the cheek and his body relaxed an almost imperceptible degree. Better than nothing.  


¨I, uh.¨ He was going to try to apologize, I wanted to scream at him to shut up. Tell him his words meant nothing while my kids were still wandering through the chill night. I didn't. I knew the minute I tried to speak I would break down again. Being mute was the only barrier between me and my tears, between me and this reality.  


¨I… I'm sorry. I never intended for- no, no excuses. I'm just so sorry that this happened that i-¨ He choked a little and I realized tired he looked. He was haggard.  


¨That it was my fault that this happened. I can't go home to my children until I find yours. I promise you Ma´am.¨  


¨Thank you Officer.¨ My voice didn't really support the words, it felt like I was lying. I tried to smile at him but it felt like trying to shape gelatin, it just wiggled away from me. I was squeezed tighter.  


He didn't look reassured offering me a weak smile before, brows furrowed and face serious, answering the phone on the first ring.  


¨Yes?¨  


We held hope for a while but each successive ring proved that they were nothing more than progress reports. Why they bothered to call when they've obviously made no progress was beyond me. As the hands of Frank´s watch began to point at smaller rather than larger numbers, my body felt heavy. My heart felt heavy. He was gripping me too tightly to fall asleep and my mind was still working too fast. Each second seemed to doom them further. Their injuries shone in my mind a vivid technicolor display. Wirt had twisted his ankle at 1:29 only an hour after Greg had fallen unconscious from hypothermia. He was limping, Greg in arms, through a minefield of roots and hazards ready to pull him to the ground forever. Drenched in dirt, blood, cold. The forest a maelstrom against which there was no defense.  


Frank’s breath had become steady and soothing like a metronomic lullaby. He had fallen asleep at 3:23. I could not, my limbs begged me to, even as my eyes grew foggy and unclear. No, I could not. Pines had not received a call in an hour and seven minutes. Whatever that meant I was unsure.  


I got off Frank, his grasping limbs falling aside like a doll´s. He must have been more tired than me if he could find a way to sleep. I grabbed his jacket off the cheap coat hanger that had been installed, mine was still in the car. I vaguely wondered if we had remembered to lock our doors before moving out into the predawn fog of inky dark. Most of the police vehicles had dissipated, off to attend to more important things than guarding a possible crime scene. Like finding my children.  


I snuggled into the jacket as the wind blew silently. It was warm even though he hadn't worn it for hours, it smelled like him. I glanced at the brightly illuminated graveyard. It seemed almost blasphemous, to have all these human electronics and wires strung about and through the eternal resting spots of strangers. I could almost see their names on the stones, those names I’d given to little, wrinkly babies what seemed like yesterday but also a thousand years ago. I could imagine it all in sparkling detail, like some kind of horrible premonition trembling through my body with the force of a hurricane. I could see the empty caskets descending into the ground, a pointless empty ritual devoid of anything. They’re tiny, I’m not sure why since they have no bodies inside. They may as well be the size of a car for all the good it did. The stupid black dress, because I have to make myself beautiful to rewatch my sons snatched away from me. I have to look in the mirror at myself for an hour thinking about how I am the only reflection there.  


I banish this vision, instead imaging the day when we find them, most certainly a when. An hour away, maybe a day. A week at most, yes surely. A week, it's such a small forest they can’t have gotten far. Everything was going to be fine. An unease I’d learned to trust shuddered over my skin. An instinct that was rooted inside me. The feeling that had guided me out of a blizzard on a ski trip, had made me leave a date with a man later suspected of murder. Maybe the ancient spark that led humans to survival for centuries. I trusted it. It would be fine, but not if I stood and did nothing.  


We always kept a flashlight in the car, in case we needed to change a tire in the middle of the night. It sort of resembled a rod in appearance the LEDs attached to the side so you hold it like a sword the illumination spilling out in front. This configuration meant, with the magnetic base, you could stick it to the car and the the light would go down right where you were working. It was pretty convenient. I opened the door, we had left it unlocked. It was tucked under the passenger seat as usual, scarcely touched. I don’t even remember how long it’d been hidden there. Before Greg? Wirt? It was dusty and had some dents like it had taken a beating through the natural tumbling of the car.  


I sighed as the light flickered on reluctantly but quickly burned bright. All good. It clicked back into darkness. I glanced at the distant shady silhouette of the wall before moving along the outer wall of the cemetery, can't go through, go around. I nearly tripped several times wary of illuminating myself. I doubt the cops would let me wander on my own, and my husband definitely wouldn’t. Once out of range of the softly lit tent I could watch my step. For now I assessed the ground in front of me with a searching foot, a foot that often failed to reveal an inch of exposed root the perfect size for tripping. The debris cleared as I approached the edge, changing into a mostly grassy gentle curve of land. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t ever explored behind the cemetery. I remembered that there was a small creek over here and then it led into the woods.  


I turned the corner mostly by sensation alone putting a wall between me and everyone else. All set to go. I went to flip the switch but my fingers were numb and fumbled a little. It's so cold. It coughed to life again and my eyes gazed in horror at the scene played before me. A cold metal railway was cutting so close I felt it must be some zoning violation. The slight hill turned down into a near vertical drop from there, my feet nearly slipped just looking at it. The creek was more of a small river, its banks were swollen and swift with recent rainfall. It all looked savage, apparati ready to break, crush, drown and destroy a few innocent boys. I touched the track, it was cold and dry no trace of signature red stains or clipped clothing. Of course not, they were too clever to linger on active rails. I inspected the grassy hill as carefully as I could with limited light and shivering vision. Every inconsistency looked like a footprint, a divot dug by falling fingers. A sign that they had been here, any kind of sign. The creek was icy, bits of frost clung to the edges. It wasn’t enough to determine whether the ice had been broken, a silent but dangerous hum rising from the seemingly placid waters. The current was deceptively strong and even if it wasn’t, being wet in this cold would be deadly in a short amount of time.  


I wondered if they’d crossed it either accidentally or purposefully. They may have been able to drag themselves out in a panic but they wouldn’t have crossed it willingly, right? It seemed improbable but there wasn’t very much elsewhere to go. If they had headed in any other direction they would have been seen, found. We had a wall of witnesses gathered that wouldn’t overlook two wandering children. They couldn’t have gone anywhere else.  


Cold water soaked up to my waist, it must have easily lapped over Greg’s head. Easily had enough force to sweep thin Wirt off his feet. It was too unpredictable. Sure they may be just on the other side but this water could have dragged them for miles, they could be still adrift unconscious or.. I shook my head to clear it, none of that. I managed to pull myself out on the other side the wind biting into my damp lower body like pain into a wound. The edges of Frank’s thick wool jacket had hungrily absorbed the cold water. I held the warm and dry parts to me tighter. This wasn’t a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's still short but I'm working on that. Pacing chapters isn't my strong suit. Next one is a little longer. And yes. Definitely not a good idea.


End file.
